Five Seconds
by ponderer
Summary: Five Seconds of Hermione and Ron. Not the ones you’ve thought of, promise. Five Firsts Sequel
1. Part the First

TITLE: Five Seconds  
AUTHOR: ponderer  
DISCLAIMER: I want for nothing.  
SUMMARY: Five Seconds of Hermione and Ron. Not the ones you've thought of, promise.  
SPOILERS: You might want to read "Five Firsts" before reading this, for it's a continuation.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, you asked for it folks. Part Deux of "Five Firsts". So, here it is!

Five Seconds: Part the First

_The second sighting._

-

Hermione survived roughly over the next few days after Harry and Ginny's wedding day; or more properly, the renamed Dumbest Day of Her Life. She was exhausted having getting absolutely no sleep each night, her work life was beyond stressful, and her lack of social life wasn't improving her morose mood.

She hadn't heard from Ron, her love, her _ex_, since the fateful dance at the reception. Afterwards, she had stood numbly on the dance floor, staring after Ron's back, held up strong. She wasn't sure how long she had stood there but knew that it was Neville and Luna that had taken each of her arms gently to lead her off of the floor to their table. They chattered nonsensically around her and she just looked down at her empty plate, willing herself to feel anything.

Harry had tried to whisk her away for a dance, but she couldn't dare meet his pitied look. "Come on Hermione, moving around will be good for you," he joked, trying to get her to smile. Her blank look told him all he needed to know, although he didn't give up. "For me? On my wedding day, I would love to dance with my best friend."

She wanted to refuse, but his look was too powerful. She felt herself being pulled up and into his embrace as he moved them across the dance floor to a song she had once known word for word, but she couldn't hear anything but her own steady feet hitting the ground in her heels. Harry didn't try to talk, but she could sense how much he wanted to say by the way his mouth opened every so often as if to begin a sentence but he would stop short every time.

Once, when he spun her around just right, she caught sight of a handsome red head looking her way. When she faced the same spot seconds later, nothing was there. She figured it was just her imagination.

She had returned to work like a zombie. She barely ate, didn't talk unless spoken to, didn't make any sort of effort to communicate to anything living. Even Crookshanks noticed something was off when his master didn't pet her when she came home; simply poured food into his dish, refilled his water, and moved stoically to her bedroom where she would lie in bed until the sun rose and she'd begin again.

Ginny and Harry were only on honeymoon for five days, cutting it short when owls arrived from Neville and Luna who had been keeping an eye on their friend. They weren't frustrated at their shortened getaway, but extremely concerned about Hermione's well being. She'd stopped answering the door, her phone, and letters remained unopened on her kitchen counter and table.

Harry stepped over her threshold with two bags full of food, making an attempt to cook her dinner that he knew she would most likely not eat. He found her in her bedroom wearing Ron's old t-shirt, lying on his side of the bed, staring at the wall. She was in a fetal position, and he could tell through the old shirt that she was losing too much weight.

"What have you let happen to yourself?" he thought. Setting his shoulders back, he began to set his and Ginny's plan in motion. "Up you go, my friend," he announced, lifting her small body in his arms and began to carry her into the bathroom.

At once, Hermione came to life with a vigor he welcomed. "Harold James Potter! Put me down this instant!"

"No, because you see, you aren't acting like yourself. I've only been away for five days and that's no reason to lock yourself away into your room like a hermit," he explained with a smile. Hermione was wearing a confused look. "You have to learn to share me with Ginny, Hermione. Didn't they teach you that when you were a child?"

Her eyes lit up slightly, enough for Harry to see that Hermione was beginning to understand his tirade. "No, I suppose they didn't."

Harry sighed dramatically. "What are they teaching youth these days?" He set her down on her feet beside the shower stall and reached in to turn the water on. "Now, I want you to shower and pamper yourself while I go out there and make a fabulous meal. Ginny will be here momentarily, as well as Neville and Luna, and we are going to explain the rules of sharing to you. Do I make myself clear?"

She nodded solemnly, but felt something odd happen to her face as Harry left her in the bathroom. She reached her hand up to her mouth and gasped. She was smiling.

It was a start.

-

"Oh, ickle Ronniekins! I come baring gifts!" Ginny called out to her brother's apartment a day after her dinner with a feeble looking Hermione. It looked much the same it always did, messy and cluttered with junk. She grinned though, because at least this much hadn't changed. Ron came out from the direction of the bathroom, his hair still damp from a shower. He smiled when he saw his baby sister.

"Ginny, I didn't expect you home yet, thought my friend would have kept you away for a few weeks!" he cheered, coming over to hug her. Ginny gave him an odd expression before answering.

"Well, we came home early for… well," she began, unsure of what to say. He looked down at her in pure concern.

"For what?"

"You don't know?" she asked. He shook his head. "Hermione's been having a rough patch it seems," she finally admitted, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened momentarily but quickly went back to his usual mirth.

"That's too bad," he said finally. His mood changed too fast for Ginny to say much else before he changed the subject. "So, I heard you said you had gifts? Harry gave you time to shop, eh?"

Ginny stared at her brother in wonder. Was he in denial? "Ron, we need to talk about this."

"About Harry letting his bride roam the city streets to shop instead of shagging her?" he laughed, searching through her bag excitedly.

"Ronald," she huffed, smacking his hands away.

"What?" he asked, still a large smile on his face.

"I don't understand you, not one bit," she said and Ron's face fell slightly.

"Of course you know me Ginny. It's still me."

Ginny shook her head. "No, because Ron wouldn't be here like this. He would be hurting, especially knowing that his sister and best friend had to cut their honeymoon short because of his girlfriend who won't come out of her room."

Ron looked at her with a stern face she had seen her father wear on certain occasions of trouble making. She became still. "Ginny, it's none of your business." He sat down on his couch, a squeak echoing throughout the apartment as the springs gave in to his weight.

Then she was mad because he brushed her off. "Of course it's my business! She's a complete wreck, missing you and loving you! I've never seen her like this, never! She shouldn't be like this! You shouldn't let it happen!"

Ron sat staring at the fireplace, saying nothing nor moving. Ginny continued on her rant, falling to rest beside him. "You're a bloody fool to sit here and act like nothing's wrong. You two belong together. It's stupid that you're not trying to win her back!"

Ron snapped, standing up from his worn couch. "I am upset Ginny! I'm so upset that sometimes I feel like I can't breathe! I can't just sit here and wallow like a bloody woman! So I stay busy and smile because I have to move on! And it's hard, harder than anything I've had to do!"

"Then go to her, Ron!" Ginny cried, placing a hand on his arm. He jerked away at the touch.

"I won't. I can't. I've always done the running. I need time to… process and move on. We've been so childish, never really growing up with each other. And I've finally grown tired of it. I'm ready to become an adult in an adult relationship. She's not ready for that."

"How do you know?" she whispered.

Ron bowed his head and when he looked back up, he looked so broken and worn out that Ginny wanted to console him. "Because I had asked her to marry me once, and she'd said no."

-

_It had went something like this._

Ron and Hermione were strolling leisurely around the grounds of Hogwarts mere days after the final battle, holding hands and silent in conversation, but thoughts on those they had lost. But, they had each other. And that's how it was supposed to be.

Finally, Ron stopped, effectively pulling Hermione back a bit because she had kept on going. "I love you," he'd said when she turned around with a raised eyebrow.

She'd grinned, but had stayed silent otherwise. "I want to marry you," he'd whispered that time, because he had been nervous. Her smile had faded away then, and she was looking at him with concern.

She stayed silent still and he looked at her and it was silent and still and he hated it. Finally, he had shaken his head and began to walk again, his hand holding hers a bit too tightly for her liking but she said nothing. "Nevermind," he murmured and she'd teared up at that, but still said nothing.

-

Ginny was in shock when Ron finished his story. "What happened the next day? Or later on that day?"

Ron looked dazed, apparently still trapped in his memory. "Nothing. We never talked about it again. She was embarrassed and clearly not in the same boat as me at the time. I was crushed, but I figured as long as I had some part of her in my life I had to take it. So I'd sworn to myself I would never ask again because I had been so sure then that it was right. I was wrong. I didn't want to make the same mistake again."

"No one else knows?" she asked quietly. He shook his head.

"If anyone would have known, I suppose she would have told you, but I guess I was wrong there too," he muttered, running his long calloused fingers over his clean face. Ginny frowned.

"Okay, but you obviously know now that she wants to be with you. She admitted it, even. So, why not go to her and propose after all?" Ron was already shaking his head.

"Ginny, my heart is broken. I can't start again, I can't pretend that it didn't happen. Not anymore." Ginny looked at her brother, his saddened face, his sunken eyes, the sag to his shoulders (even his clothes looked sad) and nodded.

"I'm going to fix things Ron," she whispered, leaning into his broad, strong shoulder.

"Why? I'm not sure it's worth it anymore," he whispered back, tired now.

"Because you're my big brother. And you would do the same for me."

-

"Would you like to order your drink while you wait for the rest of your party?" a pretty, young waitress asked Hermione as she sat twisting her fingers in a restaurant. Harry and Ginny were running late, but that wasn't the reason why she was on edge.

"Um… yes, I'll have raspberry tea please," she smiled and the waitress nodded and went to place her drink order. She looked around the fairly crowded restaurant, surveying the faces and décor. Before long, her fingers were twisting around each other again, her stomach in knots. The day before when Ginny had asked her to join her and Harry for a dinner, something had been off with the way Ginny had smiled. It was unsettling.

But, she knew she couldn't say no either. She put her new dress on (the one Ginny had insisted on her buying on their impromptu shopping spree the week before) and did nothing with her hair, nor did she wear much makeup. True, she had been feeling better, actually talking to her friends on her own time and slowly becoming herself. It was when she was left alone in her lonely apartment when she remembered things…

"Oi, sorry we're late," Harry said, he and his wife making an entrance to their table. Hermione grinned up at them, shaking her head.

"Its fine, I just ordered my drink," she said, accepting a kiss on the cheek from the blushing husband. Ginny reached down to do the same while Harry pulled out her chair. "Is everything okay?"

Ginny and Harry's blushes were Hermione's answer. She felt a pang of jealously in her stomach, but put a smile on her face instead. "Oh, I see," she said, nodding.

They spent the rest of the evening chatting about this and that, mostly keeping Hermione involved in conversation all night; so much in fact that she felt like she was talking the most. It didn't appear to bother her friends though.

"All right, I've said enough this evening. Why don't you two go home and be married on your own?" she joked, taking a last sip of her drink. Harry rubbed his full stomach and looked over at his wife.

"I'm not so sure he'll be any good for me tonight, not after that huge meal he just ate," Ginny quipped. Harry pouted as his wife continued. "He'll most likely hit the bed once when we get home."

"And snore all night long…" Hermione added.

"And wake up in the morning and try to wake me…" Ginny went on, and Hermione finished.

"For some morning love!" The two women laughed like school girls while Harry looked crestfallen.

"I'm not that bad yet, am I love?" he asked, giving Ginny a look. Hermione blushed and looked away from their glances of intimacy. She felt like she was intruding and wished desperately to leave before she felt other pains of misery. Ginny's gasp interrupted her.

Hermione looked up and turned around in her chair. There stood Ron, his arm slung low around Lavender Brown's waist. Open-mouthed, she stared at him while the couple looked back.

"Hello Ronald," Hermione said finally, breaking the silence. "Lovely to see you, Lavender," she added. Lavender grinned, bemused, looking down at the low-cut neckline of her black dress. Ron looked handsome as ever, but Hermione wasn't fazed. She only saw red in her vision.

"Hermione, maybe we should go…" she heard Harry behind her, hoping to get her out of the restaurant without making a scene.

"That's a good idea, Harry. I say, we should head back to my flat, I just bought a nice red wine that would be a lovely ending to our evening. I'll have to ask my neighbor Danny if he'd like to join in. He's been asking me over almost every night this week and I've always been so busy. Goodnight you two," she said strongly, pushing her chair in and grabbing her things. Ginny and Harry followed behind her, amused and confused, while Ron looked like a fish out of water.

"See you," Harry said, passing his male companion. Ron could only nod in response, his eyes looking at the way Hermione's hips swayed as she walked away.

Outside, Ginny caught up with Hermione first. "Hermione, are you okay?" Hermione turned and it surprised Ginny to see that she wasn't crying, nor did she look hurt. She looked determined.

"I'm absolutely fine."

"Do you have any plans with this Danny fellow?"

"Danny? Oh, he's only four and has been begging me to play checkers with him since he has no other young children to play with."

Ginny laughed. "So, what was that back there?"

"I plan on winning Ron back," she answered gleefully, a new bounce in her step. "I might need help in certain areas, but I'm sure you're the witch I need in this situation. Are you in?"

Ginny nodded, putting her arm through Hermione's. Nobody bet against Hermione and won.


	2. Part the Second

TITLE: Five Seconds  
AUTHOR: ponderer  
DISCLAIMER: I want for nothing.  
SPOILERS: You might want to read "Five Firsts" before reading this, for it's a continuation.  
SUMMARY: Five Seconds of Hermione and Ron. Not the ones you've thought of, promise.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you so much for the awesome reviews! I love how upset everyone's become with Ron and Hermione separately. I just wanted to explain that it was intentional. I was rooting for Ron on this particular tale, but I wanted you to choose your side. I hope that with this chapter, everyone gets what they wanted; especially Hermione and Ron.

Five Seconds: Part the Second

_The second proposal._

-

Ron sat at his desk, staring over into the fireplace that continued to burn throughout the late evening. He had only just returned from his impromptu dinner with Lavender and got the shock of his life to see a cool, calm, and collected Hermione explaining something about wine and a neighbor, Danny. He had held back his rage and jealously at the thought of another man touching her in any way, but instead let shock be his first emotion shown. She looked stronger and more determined since the last time he had seen her, and was proud that she was finally returning to herself. When Ginny had explained how torn up she'd been, making his sister and newest brother-in-law home early from their honeymoon, he knew it was bad. But he also knew there wouldn't be a damn thing he'd do about it himself because Hermione needed to make up her own mind.

So, Ron sat at his desk, staring over into the fireplace.

Until a familiar pop resounded throughout his small flat, that is.

"Ronald Weasley!" He was afraid to look up because he knew that shrill voice anywhere. But he did, and let a gleeful grin appear on his face. Hermione's hair was much wilder than earlier in the night when he saw her; she looked frazzled. "I have no idea what you were trying to pull earlier, but I will have none of the likes of her in your arms again, do you understand me?"

Ron's smile only grew larger and her fury continued to rise.

"I love you, you stupid git and I won't stand here and let some other woman put her hands on you, especially her! Now I want you to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing!"

Ron didn't answer, and the only response she got his was beaming grin, white teeth gleaming from his lips.

"Bloody Hell, why are you smiling like that?" With no response, Hermione seemed to calm herself momentarily. "Okay, look," she began, "I know you said you needed time and although I don't understand it, I do respect it. I just don't see how dating her will help things between us."

"I'm not dating her," he said simply, shaking his head, still smiling.

"What?" she asked, surprised he had finally spoken.

"I'm not dating her. Ginny asked me for a drink, and I met Lavender out front," he explained but chuckled when Hermione hissed at the mention of the other girl's name. "We got to chatting about school and what's been happening afterwards and we came inside. Turns out her date had stood her up and I invited her to tag along, as a friend," he emphasized. "I didn't know you'd be there. I was just as surprised as you; although I can't say that I'm upset at how things panned out."

"You aren't upset?!" Hermione screeched, earning another chuckle from Ron.

"It got you here, didn't it?" he answered.

"What in heaven's name do you mean?" she asked, brushing her hair stubbornly behind her ears.

"I mean that I meant I needed time to think things through and while I did mean it, I really wanted you to chase after me. To refuse me that time."

"Why?" Ron looked bashful now, looking down at his lap.

"You've always known exactly what you wanted in life and no matter what, you've gone after it until it's in your hands. And I'd hoped that maybe you'd realize when I told you I needed to think, that you wouldn't be able to handle it; that you'd come and pull me away to say I didn't need time."

"But I did, Ron," Hermione started but Ron stopped her by placing his cool hand on top of her own.

"You didn't try hard enough," Ron answered and Hermione looked shocked. He stood from his desk chair and moved to pull her along to his couch where he sat them both down. "I love you Hermione Granger, and I want to be with you forever. I just needed to know that you felt the same way."

"You know I do!" she exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes in frustration.

"And sometimes I need to hear that as much as you need to hear it from me, understand?" he asked in more of a statement. Hermione nodded, crying now, and felt herself being tugged into his embrace. "I love you so much that it pains me to be in the same space as you. I feel as if I can't breathe unless you're here, in my reach. My hands itch to touch you constantly, your hair, your fingers, your lips."

"I love you too, Ron, so much," she said, pulling slightly away to touch his lips with her own but at the last second he turned his face so her mouth touched his stubbled cheek. "What?"

"I'm going to ask this only once more because enough is enough, I think," he said, pulling from her arms completely and began rummaging through his desk drawers. Hermione watched him while wiping at her face. He kneeled down on the carpet in front of her with a small diamond ring in his outstretched palm. "I don't know why you said no the first time and I don't care because I know that now your answer will be yes. I know that because I'm going to put this ring on your finger," he did as he said on her left hand, "and it's going to be a perfect fit," and it was, "and I'm going to say that I won't stop from putting this ring on your finger for the rest of my life because it's my ring that belongs there and I'm just like you where I don't stop until I get what I want. Now, for the second and last time, Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

Hermione looked down into his deep, bright blue eyes and saw his own determination there, along with hope and so much love she felt she might burst. In a way she wanted so badly to make him suffer an ounce of what she had endured in the past few weeks but knew that it would only take longer to fix things. What Ron offered her was what she always wanted.

"I was scared," she whispered instead.

"Of what?" he asked, confused.

"When you asked me the first time. The war had just barely ended and there you were, alive and beautiful, and you told me you loved me. I loved you then, so much, that I couldn't remember a time when I didn't. The lines between our friendship and more was so blurred that for once, I couldn't tell what it all meant. And then you asked me that question and I completely blanked."

Ron began to say something to stop her explanation but Hermione shook her head.

"I need to tell you this so you understand," she started and she waited for his nod to continue. "I was scared that we would jump into things. I needed time to process things." In her words, she realized her hypocrisy. "I suppose I was never really ready."

"Why not?" he asked and she could see how some of his hope had vanished from his gaze.

"It was too much, too perfect to comprehend. In a flash, I suddenly had everything I had ever wanted. It was too easy. I felt I needed to work harder to really earn it; and you," she finished lamely, shrugging. Ron breathed a sigh that ended with a relieved laugh.

"You felt you didn't earn me? Hermione, that's complete rubbish, and you know it!"

"It is not complete rubbish! Its how I felt!" she exclaimed.

"If anything I needed to earn you. But, honestly, I think that of the past seven years, we've worked together to earn each other," Ron explained. Hermione paused, her mouth open but no words came out. The answer was simple, perfect, everything, and so Ron.

"I suppose we did," she said and was rewarded once again by Ron's smile. She couldn't help but grin back.

"So, are you going to answer me, or not?" he asked, mock impatiently. Hermione turned her head to the side, but not before the diamond she bore caught her eye. She could see why Ron had picked it out; it was absolutely breathtaking – not too flashy, nor too big or too small. It fit her and her personality wonderfully.

"Answer what?" she asked, joking. Hearing Ron's sigh, she laughed and threw herself into his arms, planting her lips on his, tasting him, loving him after too long.

"Please?" he whispered as their lips only touched without movement.

"Of course, Ron. Yes, a million times over, yes," she whispered back.

-

When Ginny and Harry popped over the next morning cautiously stepping over dropped articles of clothing leading to Ron's bedroom (a pink cotton bra and Ron's favorite blue sweater), they hid back bursts of excitement by placing a small note and box of pastries on the empty table (messy papers all over the floor) and leaving before they interrupted anything.

Ginny turned once more to face her brother's living room and gave a nod. Harry, surprised, turned back to look at her. She smiled at her husband, leaned up to give him a passionate kiss that left him breathless. Tugging on his arm, she led him, stunned, down and out onto the street.


	3. Part the Third A

TITLE: Five Seconds  
AUTHOR: ponderer  
DISCLAIMER: I want for nothing.  
SUMMARY: Five Seconds of Hermione and Ron. Not the ones you've thought of, promise.  
SPOILERS: You might want to read "Five Firsts" before reading this, for it's a continuation.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Information about Caloundra, Australia is here, at this link.

In this chapter, I thought that Hermione and Ron needed a vacation. Enjoy!

Five Seconds: Part the Third A

_The second trip to Australia._

-

Hermione's eyes opened slowly, lazily, comfortably, fluttering against the morning sun streaming through the window adjacent from her bed. Stretching her body down to her toes, she felt the familiar burning deep down between her thighs, feeling a thick stream of moisture there. Feeling a heavy arm holding her like a pillow, she turned her head to find a sleeping Ron. He was wearing her favorite thing; his nudity. His red hair was lying across his eyes…

_Were bright blue full of want and desire as soon as they found the bedroom in their hotel room, and she already felt naked in his gaze, heaving a great sigh…_

…and she could feel his cock nestled into her back, stirring to life as his breaths drew shallow with his waking. "Mione," he moaned, rubbing himself against her a bit while bringing his body closer to hers. She wiggled her butt back against his hips and he grasped her side with his fingers.

"Morning," she answered, turning her head to kiss…

_His lips, so tender and soft and kissable, were so utterly perfect that she couldn't tear her eyes away from them while he spoke or ate. It was difficult to restrain herself while he was trying to explain something, but finally, when she could stand no more, pulled his face in and kissed…_

…him tenderly. "Morning," he replied, barely moving his lips away from hers. He used his fingers on her hip to urge her body to turn and face his and soon she was completely wrapped in his embrace and she could feel every inch of skin reminding her of how they had ended up in this position in the first place.

-

After the break-up and getting back together event, Ron had decided a vacation was in order, to "reacquaint" one another again. Hermione had laughed at his explanation, but when his gaze turned to red heat of want, she couldn't seem to resist this temptation.

They had decided on Caloundra, Australia, on the southern border of the continent. It was near where her parents had stayed during their hunt, and when Hermione had went to bring them home, she had fallen in love with her parents' surroundings. She showed Ron the pictures she had taken from the excursion and he too had eyes for the spot, or more like imagining Hermione lying on the beach in a too small bikini.

"Don't be ridiculous, I would never wear that," she had said while they shopped for bathing suits. Ron had been holding up a scandalous two-piece that had string ties and not enough coverage. Deciding on something more suitable, she left Ron to his own devices and moved across the store for more appropriate beach wear. What she found though, was much better. It was brown, unlike the one Ron had picked out that was yellow, but was low cut enough to interest Ron's eyes. She still blushed, holding it up for her view, seeing how it was low in the back, but cris-crossed in the front so it would expose her sides, looking almost like a wrap.

Ron returned to her side, complaining about not finding a pair of blue swimming trunks for himself, but stopped when he noticed what she was holding up. "What do you think?" she asked, still blushing. Ron bobbed his head without closing his mouth, looking rather funny.

That was all the answer she needed.

-

"This is going to be wonderful," Hermione said while they overlooked their view from their hotel room balcony. "I'm glad to have picked a normal vacation spot so we're not so secluded away."

"Yes, I suppose," Ron answered, leaning against the railing beside her. It was late in the evening and they were both exhausted from the plane ride, trying to make this vacation as normal as possible. Ron hadn't enjoyed the airplane as much as Hermione had, as she was used to that kind of traveling, but Ron assured her he would be fine with it.

"Are you feeling tired? We could order in tonight and you could have a lie in," she said, stroking her fingers tenderly through his hair, massaging his scalp delicately with her fingertips.

"Hmmm…" he hummed in reply. He reminded her of Crookshanks then, how he almost seemed to purr when she hit a particular spot behind his ear.

When he opened his eyes, he didn't so tired. With a growl, he pounced on her.

-

"I never want to leave this room," Ron said with a mouthful of soup in his mouth. Hermione offered him a napkin and he took it and wiped his lips. "This bed is beyond comfortable, this food is excellent, and you sitting there naked, it's the perfect place."

"There are other reasons why we came here, Ron," Hermione laughed, bringing the sheet up closer around her breasts.

"Why so shy? It's nothing I haven't seen before," he replied smugly, tugging at her end of the sheet trying to take a peak. Hermione squealed and pulled harder.

"Ronald!" she exclaimed when he brought his body close to hers, freeing her nude body. He too was in the buff, but he wasn't embarrassed by his body. He once was, she thought, when they had first learned each other's scars and private areas long ago. But now, he was completely confident in himself and Hermione envied him.

"What?" he laughed, finally succeeding in pulling the bedding off and away from her now exposed body.

"Happy now?" she asked in only slight annoyance, going back to reach for her sandwich on the tray. Ron gazed at her happily, watching her mouth chew, down her neck, along her breasts, and finally to her belly and lower.

"Not even close," he murmured hungrily, but not for his food or hers. Taking her sandwich from her hands and pushing it away, he lowered himself on top of her, his mouth covering her squeal of surprise.

-

While Ron slept in (and he deserved it after the night they had endured, she thought), Hermione headed into town for an early morning stroll. She noted the different shops and activity maps she found, making sure to find things that both she and Ron could enjoy. However, Ron seemed hell bent on never leaving their hotel room.

Sighing happily, she grabbed some breakfast from the downstairs market and headed back up to their room to what she hoped to be a full day out in the Australian sunshine.

Ron was still fast asleep on his stomach, and the sheet had tantalizing slipped down his backside revealing his delicious bum to her feasting eyes. Clothes were scattered throughout the room, including his shirt that had unceremoniously landed on the lamp in the corner. She set the bag and coffee holder down on the small table and crawled up onto the bed with him, practically lying on top of his back. He huffed out a small sigh in response.

"Ready for more, love?" he murmured against the pillow that it was hard for Hermione to understand.

"Not exactly. I brought breakfast," she whispered with a grin, tugging at his ear with her teeth.

"Yum," he replied, turning his body so that she was sprawled on top of his torso, giving him a nice glimpse down her sundress's neckline. "Again, yum," he laughed, reaching up to nip at her cleavage. Hermione couldn't help but arch herself closer, having missed this closeness while they were apart, but knew that a social life was just as important.

"We have plenty of time for that later. I went into town…" she began and Ron abruptly pulled his head away from her chest.

"You went into town?" he interrupted.

"Yes, while you were still asleep. Anyway, I found some maps and asked around of what to do for fun. I found SCUBA diving and shopping, and some pleasant pubs to eat at. I believe we can attend surfing lessons as well," she explained while Ron continued his ministrations on her exposed skin. "Really Ron, we need to get out of this room sometime."

"I think we have everything we need here," he insisted, pulling one sleeve down so he could kiss her bare shoulder.

"Honestly," she exclaimed, grabbing her sleeve roughly and pulling it back up. Surprised, Ron watched as Hermione got out of their messy bed and turned to face him, hands on her hips. "If I wanted to stay indoors all day, I would have stayed home. I want to explore this beautiful, romantic beach. I don't care if you want to stay here, but I won't any longer than necessary. Now, are you coming along or not?"

Ron watched her with a pout, then turned to their bed, and back to his fiancé again. Finally, he got up and stood before her, taking her small delicate hands into his own. "Okay, just let me put some clothes on." He reached down and kissed her cheek nonchalantly and Hermione gasped as he turned around, still gloriously naked, as he went in search of his suitcase. Watching him from behind, Hermione began to rethink their plan. Battling within herself, her passion finally took over.

"Well, maybe we could go out this afternoon," she murmured while coming up behind him, running a finger along his spine; he shivered. Without precaution, he had turned and picked her up, pushing her up against the wall by the bathroom door, planting himself between her legs. Somehow, her dress sleeve was back down her arm and Ron's mouth was covering every ounce of skin that was beneath his touch. Groaning, Hermione brought a hand to the back of his head to bring him closer.

-

Ron woke first on the third day, have finally exhausted himself from the day before. Hermione had taken him for a walking tour of the town, including all of its many shops. For dinner, they had enjoyed some local fish at a neighbor restaurant, sharing bites of their dishes with one another. Afterwards, they strode the beach, hand in hand, watching the sunset.

Looking towards his fiancé, he noticed how she had gotten some sun, for there were scattered freckles along her shoulders, exposed from her tank top. She had fallen asleep quickly the night before, much to his disappointment, for all he wanted to do was make love deep into the evening, but instead climbed in right after and fell asleep himself a short time later.

The freckles began calling to him so he couldn't help himself from kissing them, beginning to keep count. He lost the number after twenty because her scent was intoxicating, as was her skin and her body, and he wanted desperately to fill his aching need for her. He continued his trek down her neck and across her collarbones, down to her shirt line before lowering his fingers to the rim of the bottom of her top to glide over her tummy. The skin was the smoothest there, he'd always thought, lowering his head to place open mouth kisses there, willing her to wake up. He rose the hem slowly, making sure to not miss any of her skin as he revealed it. Her shorts had ridden up in her sleep, so his free hand ran across her thighs. From the breathy moans he was receiving from her, he knew that she was beginning to wake up.

Her hips begin to rise, moving against his side, bringing another part of his anatomy to wake up as well. She reached a hand out to settle on his hip, dipping below the elastic of his briefs. He allowed his hips to move within her grasp, moaning as her grip tightened. While he finally exposed a brown nipple and pulled it taut into his mouth, her small hand found his member in his underwear, half-hard, and as soon as she made contact, he was at full mast.

"Oh God," he murmured against her chest, moving his hips faster. Her fist tightened, up and down, up and down his shaft and he prayed that he could get her clothes off of her before he lost it. "Hold on," he said, pulling himself begrudgingly away from her embrace. Her eyes were wide open and she was breathing heavily as he stood to quickly lose his briefs then crawled back on the bed to swipe her pajama bottoms from her lower half, loving to find her completely bare underneath. Not wanting to waste any time, he plunged himself deep into her, feeling her tight walls, wet and smooth and just right for his cock, and began to move lazily. She grasped onto his biceps, feeling the muscles there as he moved above her. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing a new angle to their love making, her feet digging into his bare bottom.

"So good," she murmured when he reached his head down to playfully nip at her neck. He growled and pumped a little bit harder, Hermione's groan in his ear his reward. He smirked, but Ron knew that payback would be deliciously bad. With a strength he had only dreamt about, Hermione pushed him back and because he was surprised, she flew over him, straddling his waist now and held his cock in a hand, teasing the head at her entrance. "You were saying?" she asked smugly, finally lowering herself slowly onto him.

"So good," he repeated and she moved greedily now, milking him. Morning love making was his favorite for this was when Hermione allowed the lights to be on (because it was already daylight) and she was sleepy and quiet, and the act itself was more sensual, not out of necessity. "God, feels so good," he said, earning a moan from Hermione. He sensed she was not as close to release as he was, so as a gentleman, he reached a hand to her clit, letting his fingers slide over her folds. She moved faster then, with the help of his fingers, and came with a small cry, her body quivering. Though she was still moving, it wasn't enough for him to finish quickly, so he pushed her back over and threw her leg up to his waist and filled her so completely that it only took a few deep strokes before he fell over the edge with her.

-

"Will you put some lotion on my back, Ron?" Hermione asked, handing him her bottle of sun tan lotion. Ron took it from her outstretched hands, quickly squirted some into his palms and rubbed together, beginning at the top of her shoulders.

"This beach is entirely too crowded," Ron noted and Hermione sighed.

"Ron, we had to come outside eventually," she said, turning her head to catch his eye. He leaned down and kissed her once, lingering.

"Yes, but did we have to come out where there were so many people milling about? I thought the reason we came on vacation was to spend time together, alone," he mumbled, kissing spots he hadn't lathered up. Hermione tilted her head to the side to give him access to her exposed neck and she already felt the urge to have him right there on the beach where children and their families were building sandcastles.

"Ron, really, we're acting like we're teenagers," she said after he stopped his ministrations. She squirted some of the lotion in her hands to reach for his back. She stood on their blanket to get on her knees behind him. More freckles were already appearing on his broad shoulders from the limited sun exposure they had already received in Caloundra, and she wanted nothing more to kiss every single one, but knew that it would ultimately lead to something else.

"I think we're acting perfectly fine, love. We are two newly engaged lovers who want nothing more than to shag on a beautiful, exotic continent," he mused, taking one of her hands and kissing the top of it. She sighed at the simple gesture, already melting into his soft words.

"Yes, well, that may be very well and true, but restraining ourselves is also very important to our relationship too," she explained, moving from behind him to stretch out on her back on their soft blanket. Ron turned to face her, still sitting with his legs crossed beside her.

"Why? Is it so horrible that I can't keep my hands off of you?" he asked, smiling, already grabbing for her tummy, receiving a giggle from her.

"No, because when you act like this, it's pretty hard for me to keep my hands off of you," Hermione admitted.

"Then what's stopping you?" he asked, putting on his sexy pout, and Hermione closed her eyes, feeling both his and the sun's heated gaze on her skin.

"Patience, Ronald. Doesn't the anticipation make it greater, when you finally get what you want at the end of the day? Make the stress and want of the day make it worth it for when that hotel door closes and latches and it's finally just you and me. Kiss me like you've wanted to all day without worrying about young children or barmy old men and just hold me like only lovers can. Make love to me so deeply that you can't see straight."

Hermione opened her eyes to look up at her fiancé who was staring down at her with a lust-filled glare, like he was ready to pounce at any second. She smiled serenely, closing her eyes again. "It'll all be worth it later, Ron, trust me," she said cheerfully and Ron groaned and flopped himself down beside her. Wanting him to feel a little bit better, she grabbed his hand nearest to hers and grasped it in her own, squeezing.

-

As Hermione sunbathed in the hot sun, Ron ventured out into the water, swimming underwater to admire how clear the water was. Far out into the ocean he could see local fisherman with their boats, some diving. Children and their parents were splashing close to the sand, while teens tossed a Frisbee down a ways. But every so often, no matter his other surroundings, his gaze would fall back onto the beautiful girl who had chosen him, mind, body, and spirit. He shook his head in wonder, watching as she turned to lay on her stomach. She reached into her small bag to pull out a thick book he had seen her read on the airplane, but it never looked as appealing as she did to him.

With a front stroke, Ron came out of the water refreshed and cooled off from the hot sun. It was nearly noon, he gathered, and heard his stomach begin to grumble. Remembering something from his mother, he knew not to eat before swimming, so thought he should pack things up and whisk Hermione away for a proper meal out in town; as that was what seemed to make her more happy then staying cooped up in their perfectly good hotel room, naked.

"Love, what to do you say about getting some lunch in town?" he asked nonchalantly, picking up his towel to wipe off his chest. Hermione's eyes watched the towel with a heated gaze but Ron pretended not to notice. "We passed that sandwich shop, does that sound okay?" He used the towel to dry his arms, but Hermione's gaze stayed on his chest; he knew she always had a thing for him being wet from a shower and figured ocean water was no different. "Love, I'm up here," he smirked, pointing to his face. Her eyes snapped up to his and narrowed, and right after, her stomach growled too.

"Yes, I suppose that's a good idea," she finally admitted and Ron grinned. As Hermione put her book away, Ron thought of a way of making her crack first, to make the night worth it to her, just as it would be for him. And he didn't plan on making it easy for her, either.

-

In their hotel room later in the early evening, they dressed in the air conditioning. Ron picked out a nicer outfit, wanting to pull out all the stops for a romantic night out, but mostly because he just wanted Hermione to cave first. He sat down on the bed to put his shoes on when Hermione stepped out of the bathroom barefoot, only wearing a black summer dress, and although she had worn it before in his presence, her skin was darker now from the days in the Australian sun, and her freckles popped out which made her eyes stand out and highlights appear in her brown hair. Ron gulped, and knew that Hermione could see how he was reacting to her, so he took a breath and looked back up at her with a nonchalant face.

"Ready?" he finished tying his shoelaces and stood casually, wiping his clammy hands on his black pants. Hermione quirked a brow, confused at how he wasn't fawning over her, which was the norm.

"Almost. I just need my wrap and shoes," she answered him quietly. When he turned to find the hotel key on the table, she looked in the mirror to see if something was out of place. While she never believed she was truly that attractive, she knew that Ron always said he was, and that she could believe; mostly because he would pounce on her like he had the past few days. But, she analyzed he was only listening to what she had said earlier and shrugged. "Okay," she said finally, slipping her black wedges on her newly painted toes, wiggling them and laughing.

"Those look nice," he said, smiling at her feet.

"Thanks," she replied, grabbing her clutch and wrap by the bed. As she opened the door to leave the room, he stopped her with a gentle grasp on her elbow.

"You look beautiful," he said, and he looked bashful, like when he was young and it made it feel more like them and she blushed too.

"Thank you," Hermione murmured and with a nod from Ron, they left the hotel and made their way to dinner.

-

Hermione was completely turned on by the time they had gotten back to the hotel. She couldn't remember a time when she was so sexually frustrated since she'd been with Ron because he had always soothed her needs. And it wasn't that he wasn't a perfect gentleman all evening; because he was – exceedingly so. This was what frustrated her the most, how this whole arrangement didn't appear to bother him at all.

He been everything she had ever wanted him to be and more. He pulled open every door, cupped her elbow while walking or kept a hand on the small of her back (all too innocent touches), let her order dinner first, poured her a glass of white wine without spilling a drop, all the while making aimless conversation. Hermione was kept in a daze the entire night, watching how the candlelight flickered in his blue irises, the way his lightweight green sweater made his hair look even brighter, and how his mouth moved when he spoke.

And yet the entire time, he made no ploy to getting them out of the restaurant faster, nor did he make dirty jokes about how sexy she looked while she ate her strawberry dessert. The only thing that she did notice was that he would look away from her and down at his lap, smiling. Then he would look up under his lashes and it would look so sexual that Hermione could feel her underwear moisten.

By the time the check came and went, Hermione was more than ready to retire to their bedroom and have her way with him, or let him have his way with her (both sounded perfect to her) but then Ron suggested taking a walk on the beach and maybe getting a coffee. She agreed, but told herself that after that, they would make it back to their room.

-

Unbeknownst to Hermione, Ron too was struggling to keep his hands to himself. But he knew in the end it would be worth it. Because that's what Hermione had told him.

And Hermione was never wrong.

-

"That was lovely, wasn't it?" Ron asked cheerfully, coming from the bathroom only wearing pajama bottoms and a white tank. Hermione frowned because those were the clothes he wore when they wouldn't be able to make love – like if her parents were staying there, or they were visiting his family home.

"Yes, quite," she answered shortly, pulling off her wedges and throwing them in the corner of the room where her suitcase rested. "Are you quite down with the bathroom?" she asked and Ron only nodded with a smile.

"Sure, I'll turn down the bed while I wait," he replied and she watched as he did, moving the pillows to the floor in a neat pile, pulling the comforter and sheets and folding them. Normally, she had to pay him with chocolates to pull the bed like that, yet now, she wanted him to yank down the blankets and be there naked with her on top of him.

With a groan, she closed the bathroom door behind her, not witnessing his grin of satisfaction. "Bloody hell," she murmured, pulling at her hair while looking at her reflection in the mirror. Beyond frustrated (both mentally and physically) Hermione began to unzip her dress, becoming further irritated when the zipper got stuck. "Oh honestly!" she exclaimed, finally using her sense and pulling out her wand.

Moments later, standing only in her black panties and matching bra, Hermione was unsure of what the proper bed attire would be. She had also packed normal pajamas but she knew it was ridiculous, for they covered almost every piece of skin. She also figured that wearing her lingerie would do nothing for her either, for feeling the further disappointment when she'd find Ron fast asleep on their bed would only make it a lost effort. In the end, she decided to get even.

-

Ron was flipping through the television channels when Hermione came out of the bathroom. She leaned in the doorway as he looked up and noticed her outfit; rather, his clothes. She was wearing one of his business shirts that she had made him purchase for Muggle outings and it was his favorite color on her; yellow. The shirt swallowed her because he was so much taller and thicker than she was, and it fell nearly past her knees and she had to roll the sleeves up to use her hands freely.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked, tugging at the hem of his shirt, trying to be polite. She watched as Ron swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"No," he squeaked, and then cleared his throat. "No, I don't mind at all." After another stare, he turned back to the TV. Hermione frowned and flipped the switch to their room off before climbing into bed with him. She turned on one side, facing the wall.

"Night," she said, disappointed. Ron could hear it in her voice.

"Goodnight love," he whispered, using his free hand to rub at her back, soothing her. She bit back a moan from his touch while he held back a groan of his own to feel how she wasn't wearing a bra underneath his shirt. He edged a peak down and noticed that a bare bum cheek was available to his gaze.

He continued his ministrations though, keeping his attention on the TV, willing himself not to make a move. When she seemed to settle in and have fallen asleep, Ron turned the TV off and slid down into his spot. He was unsure whether or not he could handle sleeping, or cuddling with her inviting body, but figured that was normal than not touching at all. Turning on his side to face her, he slid an arm around her waist, burying his face behind her neck, inhaling her shampoo scent of freesias.

Hermione was not asleep at all, especially then when Ron began to spoon behind her. She could almost pretend to feel his erection there, nestled comfortably, aching to be touched in her palm. She thought about backing into him, to wind him up, but fought against it.

In the end, she yawned, succumbing to an unpleasant sleep, rubbing her thighs together for some kind of friction.

Ron too fell asleep, only slightly disappointed that Hermione didn't give in. But tomorrow was another day.

---

**AND:** This chapter was going on forever, so I decided to break it up into two parts, especially since I had friends come up and stay at my house for a few days, so this didn't come out sooner. Hope you're all enjoying reading. I still would love to hear suggestions for upcoming chapters, as I'm open to every and all criticisms!

Happy reading!


	4. Part the Third B

TITLE: Five Seconds  
AUTHOR: ponderer  
DISCLAIMER: I want for nothing.  
SUMMARY: Five Seconds of Hermione and Ron. Not the ones you've thought of, promise.  
SPOILERS: You might want to read "Five Firsts" before reading this, for it's a continuation.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry this took so long, too. But, it was really fast going once I sat down to type. If you're interested in more work by me, please read my new one-shot for "Life with Derek". As always, thanks for the lovely reviews, and please, please, continue with that!

Five Seconds: Part the Third B

_The second trip to Australia; or how the sexual tension continued to build._

The next morning was a rough start for Hermione. She woke up to find herself alone in their shared hotel room, only finding a short note from Ron after she got out of the too cold shower explaining how he was going in search of breakfast. She stubbed her toe coming to open the door for him and nearly ripped her dress after she shut it after he entered.

With a huff, she sat down at the table, irritated. Ron on the other hand looked as chipper as ever, which only made her morning worse. "I brought you a ham and cheese omelet and some wheat toast. Is that all right?" he asked, handing her a fork and a plate.

"Whatever," she mumbled, but felt horrible about it immediately after when his smile lessened. "Thank you, Ron. This looks great." He perked up again and tucked in himself. She watched him chew his breakfast thoughtfully, wondering why he wasn't as moody as she was. Usually when one of them was in a particular mood, it only took a few words before the other party was equally in the same mood. Especially after a night without sex, which recently had been too far and between. Since they had gotten back together, love making had increased to a sudden frenzy, and only becoming worse on their vacation. And although Hermione was an active partner (if not more so), she knew that being out in the open, socializing with other people, would do them so good.

But she'd never believed that Ron would have gone along with it. Not since how he'd been acting only a day before, trying to get into her bathing suit so publically. Just the thought of having his hands so intimately on her in such a public place made her bones turn to jelly and then there she was, even more turned on.

And there was the reason, sitting right across from her munching on pancakes with the biggest shit-eating grin.

And then her irritation only grew.

She wasn't sure how much longer she could handle keeping her hands to herself. Oh! But, she supposed she didn't have to stay immobile, for she was his fiancé after all, and she could touch him innocently.

To prove it to herself, she reached her left hand across the table to cover his free hand. He stopped chewing for a second to wink at her, and that was that. She smiled and nodded to herself, but then the feeling in the pit of her stomach hadn't left and she rubbed her thighs together.

-

"It's a glorious day!" Ron cheered as they walked hand in hand down the beach. They had just finished a SCUBA lesson and had seen beautiful, exotic fish and plants on a coral reef. Although it was breathtaking, Hermione was brought back into a sour mood when it was over. Ron seemed oblivious, which wasn't out of the norm, but she knew after a good swim was when Ron became more touchy. She waited as they walked from their boat to the sand, but he didn't make a move more than holding her hand innocently.

"Yeah," she replied, pouting. She realized she was being childish, but really, this whole thing was stupid.

"Is there anything else you'd like to do today?" he asked, looking at her for an idea.

_Yes, I'd like to shag you silly for the next twenty-four hours. Then sleep, and maybe eat. Then it's back to shagging. _"No, whatever you want to do is fine," she said.

"We past a bookstore on the way here and I don't think you've stopped in yet. Why don't you do that and I'll head back to the hotel for a bit of a nap. I'm knackered."

Hermione brightened at this. "I could join you," she suggested, using her other hand to place on his firm chest.

"Love I know you'd much rather go and pick out a book then watch me sleep. You've never been a big nap girl," he laughed, leaning down to press his lips to her hand then releasing it. It fell to her side, lonely.

"I really don't mind," she said, giving it another go. "I could watch the TV or read the newspaper. I just want to spend time with you," she said, kissing his shoulder through his shirt. She knew this was one of his weak spots and usually could win over any argument by kissing him there.

"No, really. Go enjoy yourself. Then when you're done, we can get cleaned up and head to dinner on the water." She grumbled, but said no more. She was beyond irritated now.

-

As promised, Ron headed to the hotel, leaving Hermione a silly chaste kiss on the cheek, and then she was left staring after his behind as he walked away. With a groan (the first time, ever, before entering said store) she entered the bookstore.

Even the lure of the spines of the volumes couldn't break her bad mood. Although she did end up purchasing a book on Australian recipes (a gift for Ginny), she ended up going back to the hotel only spending a half hour away from Ron.

He was stretched out on his side of the bed, quiet, for he must not have been asleep very long to start snoring. Sensing a brilliant idea, she toed off her sandals and set her bag down quietly on the floor. Padding softly against the carpet she crawled up on the bed beside him.

Ron always looked peaceful as he slept (except for the few nightmares he still endured from time to time). His long lashes would rest on his freckled cheeks, so light that she often wondered if he had any at all. He almost never stirred, nor moved, unless he noticed her absence. Then would he roll over to search for her body to curl into. She knew that when they did sleep away from each other, he'd sleep in a furled ball and hug her pillow to his chest, out of habit. She'd caught him on more than one occasion like that at Harry's if he'd had too much to drink the night before.

Because of this, she almost didn't want to wake him.

But, he'd been teasing her for too long and she missed him. And she wasn't below begging at this point.

"Ron," she whispered, her mouth hovering over his ear. He didn't move, so she repeated his name again. His mouth twitched and he turned his head away from the breath across his neck. Hermione frowned and decided another tactic that always woke Ron up.

Moving slowly, she crawled down towards his legs to straddle his knees. Using quick fingers, she unsnapped his shorts then pulled the zipper and began tugging the clothing down his hips. He still hadn't stirred so she moved her hands towards the waistband of his briefs when she felt his hands gripping her wrists, stopping her.

"What?" he started, looking down at her. Hermione smirked and looked down towards his bulge, licking her lips.

"I just thought I'd make the most of nap time," she said, giving him her sexy eyes that he always talked about. Ron's own eyes darkened, but his grasp on her wrists hadn't loosened. Confused, she held over his knees, hunched uncomfortably.

"Why?" he squeaked.

"Why?" Her voice came out harsh. "I'm trying to please you, Ron."

"I didn't ask you to," he explained, trying to edge away from her. He stood by the bed and pulled up his shorts.

"No, you didn't. I wanted to."

"What about this idea of going out and enjoying our vacation and not spending every moment locked up in here? This was your bloody idea!" Ron exclaimed.

"Well it was stupid!" she yelled back and before she thought he could retort, she threw herself into his arms and applied her mouth to his. He didn't fight her back, but didn't respond positively either. He stood still with his arms held to his sides.

Frustrated, she pulled away. "Ronald, kiss me back."

"No," he practically shouted. Hermione felt her heart break and she wanted to crawl into a deep hole. "You should get cleaned up and we'll go to lunch," he said, emotionless. Hermione pulled back completely, aghast.

"Let me get his straight, I, your fiancé, am willingly flinging myself towards you in what promises to be amazing sex and you are telling me, your fiancé, to go get cleaned up!"

Ron nodded slowly and blinked. "Yes, that's what I'm saying."

Hermione shook her head in disgust. "I don't get you." She turned towards the bathroom but his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"I don't get you!" Before she could reply (and her mouth really wanted to reply), Ron continued. "One minute you want me to leave you alone and the next you're bloody well ignoring that and jumping me in my sleep!"

"Well, I changed my mind!"

"You can't just do that to a bloke, Hermione! We have pains, too, you know. You can't turn us off hot and cold like that!"

"Oh, like you're so innocent!" she cried, indignant.

"What do you mean?" Hermione put her hands on her hips in preparation.

"How you've been acting these past two days. You've been a perfect gentleman, just being amazing!"

"I'm waiting for what I did wrong," he admitted, and she can see that he was actually confused, which only irritated her more.

"You know how that makes me feel when you act like that!"

"Like what?" he asked, but then he was beginning to smile.

"Honestly, you're going to make me say it?" Ron nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine! It makes me hot, randy! It makes me wet when you pull out my chair and brush my hair out of my face! I want to jump you when you touch the small of my back while leading me across the room. I want to leave a mark on your neck when you say my name. I don't want to go one night without ever seeing you naked." Ron stood there watching her explode, feeling his erection, completely hard, become even harder. "Are you happy now?!"

When Hermione looked mad like that, her hair wild and her eyes wide and her hands on her hips just so… well, Ron could agree on everything she had said. Too bad he wasn't truly paying attention to her words; more like the way her breasts moved as she breathed in and out.

"Not quite," he murmured, using one hand to clutch her hip while the other twisted in her hair behind her head to bring her mouth up to his. She moaned so deeply, clutching onto his arms for balance, standing on her tip toes. "I want this with you, always," he said, kissing below her ear, down her neck, and across her collar.

"Me too," she replied hotly, pulling his head down for another passionate kiss as he pulled them down onto the floor.

-

Later, much _much_ later, when they were full for the moment, were they able to speak normally.

"I think we may have been heard," she whispered. They were sprawled next to each other on the floor, panting, still partially clothed. During their rash love making, they hadn't cared about bras and shirts. It was just getting in and out until release. And it was wonderful.

Ron chuckled, turning to look at her. Unembarrassed, he told her, "Who cares?" Hermione blushed, but he could see the beginnings of a smile on her lips. He leaned over and kissed her slowly, taking his time and making sure to kiss both her lower and upper lips. "I knew you'd give in first," he murmured against her mouth, then kissing her again.

"Oh, honestly!"

**AN:** I love ending it like that, it's so Hermione.


	5. Part the Fourth

TITLE: Five Seconds  
AUTHOR: ponderer  
DISCLAIMER: I want for nothing.  
SUMMARY: Five Seconds of Hermione and Ron. Not the ones you've thought of, promise.  
SPOILERS: You might want to read "Five Firsts" before reading this, for it's a continuation.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, I'm not getting any ideas for possible sections. Only one more left, so leave me some thoughts!

Five Seconds: Part the Fourth

_The second move._

It had blue shutters and white walls. The windows had flower boxes full of spring blossoms of blues and reds and pinks and yellows. The white picket fence was broken in places (put on the list) and the small pathway to the front door needed re-paving. The roof leaked in during summer rains, buckets full of dirty water sitting on the kitchen floor.

The rooms are small, crowded, overflowing with useless things that neither can think to throw away. Her books and trinkets from years of vacationing and old homework assignments, his misplaced socks and empty food wrappers and old Quidditch magazines and news article clippings. The shelves are full of photos; the moving and still kind, showing pictures of new family, from times of war, ones that make them cry, ones that make them cry from laughter.

Their kitchen is small, but fits them just fine. They have all basic appliances (his benefit, not hers for she is for sure going to hurt herself one day while cooking and he'd rather her knowledge of the kitchen start small) and the fridge is full of healthy selections (his benefit, again, because she fears he eats too many sweets). They have a small, wooden table. They've only enlarged it once, when they had a get together when they first moved in. The tiled floor mismatched the paint on the walls (bottom; green, walls; pink). It was disgusting, really, and they added it to the list.

The bathroom (one toilet, one sink, one small shower that they barely fit in – especially when it's the both of them) is small. In the mornings, they've started a routine, who gets the shower first, how to arrange themselves without interrupting the other's morning. It's frustrating if they're running late, bodies slamming together (one too small towel barely covering her, his eyes wondering) and then they are really late.

Her favorite room is their bedroom. Mostly because it's the only new furniture they purchased together as a team, and not for their separate places. Everything else has come for each of their own apartments or shared homes, but this, their bedroom, is theirs. She didn't want any memories in their besides new ones only they could share. He agreed, especially when she allowed the huge bed (at least three feet from the floor so he practically lifts her up into it, which she loves, and so does he, but she pretends to be frustrated). The quilt was made by his mother, and in its color palette are their favorite colors (orange, blue, and yellow, and a hint of green), melted together into this beautiful piece that not only warms her heart, but their bodies. His side is messier, with his wristwatch resting on top of a stack of work papers that should have been organized years ago. Her side is prim and proper, but if one looked hard enough, they'd find a dirty romance novel hidden in the stack of night reading.

His favorite, not surprisingly, spot of the house is the attic. It could easily be split into two smaller rooms, but it's open for now, and they use it as mostly storage. It has a huge window overlooking the backyard. This is what he has in mind for it; two small rooms, colors of blues and pinks (or green and yellow, for neutrals) with stuffed animals and cribs and stinky diapers. It'll have an ancient looking rocking chair with a throw blanket thrown on the back of it, and when the window would be open, the blanket would blow in the wind. It would smell of powder and lotion and clean air (maybe even throw up, but not a lot). The rooms would overlook the backyard, full of toys and screaming children playing on a swing set and wooden rocking chairs would sit the parents and there would be flowers; and definitely a dog. Maybe two.

No gnomes though, that's where he would draw the line.

He told her his idea while they sat in their combined favorite spot of the house, on the front porch, sitting in the porch swing, hearing it creak as they slid their feet across the floor. She'd smiled, resting a hand on her stomach where a ring gleamed on her finger. He looked down, eyes large.

He would have to put that on the list, too.

---

**AN:** Sorry it's short. I'll let you think of what will happen next, or you could suggest it. Hint hint.


	6. Part the Fifth

TITLE: Five Seconds  
AUTHOR: ponderer  
DISCLAIMER: I want for nothing.  
SUMMARY: Five Seconds of Hermione and Ron. Not the ones you've thought of, promise.  
SPOILERS: You might want to read "Five Firsts" before reading this, for it's a continuation.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, this is it folks. Show's over. Only the curtain call. However, I would like to first thank all of my faithful reviewers and readers. My heart (which belongs to a mix of Rupe, RPattz, and JKras) also has a spot for all of you. I doubt this series will go any further than this, but it's been a blast getting to know Ron and Hermione as they grow. I hope you enjoy this last part, for, well, it's for you. Yes, you!

Peace out, homies.

Five Seconds: Part the Fifth

_The second pregnancy._

"Push, Ginny, push!" Ron could hear Harry chant it to his sister as he paced outside of her hospital room. His father and brothers sat along the walls and Hermione was off… well, he couldn't quite remember where she had gone.

"Oh, Ginny," he could hear his mother cry, and then there was a different cry and all the men waited impatiently, leaning forward in their chairs.

Harry came out, throwing his hat off, revealing his messy hair and a huge grin on his face. "It's another boy." The Weasley clan all got up, giving the new and proud dad a handshake. Ron waited last, then hugged his best friend.

"Congratulations mate. It's brilliant!"

Harry wiped at his face, tired but ecstatic. "How's the new mummy?" George asked.

"She's brilliant. Trying to get a hold of the baby since your mother can't seem to let him go," he replied and the group chuckled. "Now, who's first?" George pushed forward first, followed by Percy and Bill, and finally Charlie and Arthur. Ron stood with Harry and clapped him on the shoulder.

"How are you doing?" he asked. Harry sighed, but couldn't contain his grin.

"Honestly Ron, I don't think life could get any better than it is right now." Ron grinned back. "Where's Hermione?"

Ron shrugged, curious now. "I'm not sure, exactly. We were all here waiting and then I noticed she was gone, and then you were out here telling us the news."

"Well, go find her, you prat. She's due soon, too, you know. It'll be you two in there soon enough." Ron's eyes enlarged and Harry laughed. "Then come back and meet your new nephew and your sister, okay?" Ron nodded and Harry moved back into the hospital room.

-

Hermione watched the men around her as they sat in the hospital hallway, hearing Ginny's cries and Harry's words of encouragement. While her first nephew's birth had been exhilarating (mostly because it was her true, first nephew) this time around was much more… scary. As it was, she was very pregnant with her first child, and it would only be a short time before she'd be in there, screaming her lungs off, clenching onto Ron's hand while her mother kept a cold compress to her forehead.

Ron was pacing nervously, as he did when James was born, but she could imagine Harry doing this for them.

Before she could throw up from the nerves, she took off down the hallway (more like a penguin, waddling) and she didn't care if no one saw where she went. Her feet didn't carry her far, and it wasn't because she couldn't make it further, but she came to the nursery window. In amazement, she peered into the room, watching nurses cooing with the newborns, feeding them, changing them.

She'd changed her fair share of diapers of the years; what with babysitting her now extended family. She wasn't afraid of that; it was more of the motherly instincts. Her mother had it; for she always knew what Hermione was going through without her really confessing to her problem. Molly had that instinct too, somehow having an equal eye on each of her seven children, and now, all of her own, along with her growing section of grandchildren. Even Ginny, with James and now bouncing baby Albus had that same motherly touch that Hermione craved.

She was even envious of Ron, how simple it came to him while holding a child. It was probably the most beautiful and breathtaking thing she had ever seen (never mind their wedding day, the first time they made love, or any other moment he was beautiful and breathtaking) when she first saw him hold James. He was standing up, rocking the small, pink bundle in his arms like it was the most normal thing ever. He had an adorable grin on his face and she couldn't help but cry. Even Ginny had been emotional seeing her favorite big brother holding her first born, never mind for Harry who had a lone tear running down his own face.

And Hermione wanted nothing more than to be able to give Ron a child.

They wanted it to happen naturally, and it did, out of surprise, and not out of want. It was not a necessarily romantic conceiving, but it was special. It escalated because of an argument (they both firmly believed that fighting and bickering led to their always amazing and erotic love making. They had fallen asleep angry, but then he woke her up in the early morning light by kissing his way down her body, his wedding ring flashing up at her while she gazed down as his mouth lowered to her most feminine area and then all thoughts of the argument flew out the window.

She had found out several weeks later when she began to cry at the mention of fur balls. Heading to the doctor, it was affirmed; she was pregnant.

Telling Ron didn't scare her. It terrified her. It wasn't that she thought he'd be unhappy; the opposite in fact. It was more that she was afraid that he would be the better parent. So sure that in fact, she considered hiding it from him for awhile. But, when she began to throw up in the morning, her husband took immediate notice and she had always hated lying to him. His eyes enlarged and he smiled that adorable smile she had seen when he had held James for the first time, and then he was lifting her up in the air and laughing and crying; then she was too.

Now here she was, seven months later, hiding from said husband, standing in front of the nursery with her palm on the glass.

"I want to be the best mummy in the world for you baby," she murmured, using her free hand to rest on her tummy. Receiving a small kick from her unborn child, she grinned tearfully.

And that was when Ron found her.

-

It didn't take him long to find his wife. She was standing in front of the nursery, one hand on the glass in front of her, the other on her enlarged belly. He walked silently to stand beside her, putting a hand on the small of her back gently. "They look the same," he pointed out softly.

"No, they don't," she argued, wiping her face.

"They are all babies to me."

"What about this baby, Ronald? Will it look just like the rest of them?" she cried, both hands on her tummy now. Ron frowned.

"Course not. Our baby is going to be the best looking baby in the room." She couldn't stay mad at him, not with his grin and over-bearing confidence in their unborn child. "Anything that we make Hermione is going to be amazing. Breathtaking; just like you."

Hermione blushed, looking down at where his hand rested on top of hers, just as the baby kicked. "She knows her daddy, already," he murmured, smiling gently.

Through her tears, she asked, "How are you so sure it's a girl?" Ron shrugged.

"I just have a feeling, is all."

"Isn't that the woman's thing? To know what the sex is?"

"Do you think it's a girl?" he questioned.

"Maybe, I don't know. I just want it to be healthy." Her response was quiet and thoughtful and she turned back to the glass separating them from the nursery.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked.

"Just thinking, that's all."

"Of what?" When he only received a blasé shrug, he pushed. "Tell me, please."

"I suppose I'm just getting nervous. Everything's happening so fast and I'm afraid we aren't prepared enough and …" Ron shushed her, covering her mouth with his fingers.

"I'm nervous too, Mione. I have no idea how to be a Dad. I've asked Dad, and Harry and Bill, about being a father. They all say the same thing; that I'll know what to do when the baby's born. And if I don't know what to do, I'm sure you'll have the answer for me."

Hermione laughed, nervously. "Honestly."

"Look, it's going to be okay for us. We're gonna be great parents."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because it's us; Ron and Hermione. We make a great team, yeah? I have faith in that, don't you?"

He was looking at her so seriously and confidently and their entire relationship flashed in her mind. "Yeah, I do," she answered softly. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. "I'm so happy that we're having a baby."

"Me, too, love."

-

"Do you want to hold him, Hermione?" Harry asked. Ginny had fallen asleep not ten minutes earlier and everyone else had left the second time parents for the evening. Hermione looked a bit nervous, but nodded with a grin in Ron's direction.

"He's beautiful, Harry," she said, smiling up at him. Harry beamed, running his finger along his son's cheek.

"That he is. And with that hair, he'll be just like his Dad," Ron laughed and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Albus Severus," Hermione cooed, rocking the baby slightly in her chair. "You're going to be quite spoiled, you know."

"With a name like that?" Ron asked, receiving a joke punch on his shoulder from Harry.

"He's going to be so smart, I can tell," she told Harry and he looked curious.

"How do you know that?"

"Female intuition," she replied in a "duh" manner. Ron rolled his eyes, but was smiling. "He's going to have so many friends to play with, like his big brother and his cousin Victoire and new baby Weasley and of course, Teddy."

"Wazthat?" Ginny murmured, waking up from her short slumber. Harry leaned down to kiss her forehead, then her lips when she groaned. "Where's my baby boy?"

Hermione handed the small bundle to Ron, who passed it to his sister, kissing Albus's forehead before stepping back to Hermione to help her stand. "We'll leave the new family together for the night. We'll stop by tomorrow though, yeah?" Ron asked, placing an arm around Hermione's waist.

But the new family was already in their own world. Helping the slow moving wife, Ron steered her back through the hallway and outside to their car.

-

Hermione lay propped up in their bed later that night, waiting for Ron to come back after putting James down for the night. She read a baby name book while waiting, marking names with a pen.

"Find anything new tonight, love?" Ron asked, coming into their bedroom. His shirt was soaked from James' bath and he stripped it off, along with his jeans, before climbing into the bed with her.

"Yes. How do you feel about Thomas?"

"For a boy? I thought we were hoping for a girl," he pouted. Hermione looked down and smiled.

"It's for extra precaution, Ronald. This baby could be a boy just as much as it could be a girl."

"Well, I still say it's a girl."

"Fine, what name would you like if it was a girl?" she asked, curious. Ron thought for a moment, then answered.

"I've always like Rose."

"Rose." Hermione said it simply, letting the name roll of her tongue with ease. Ron watched her, nervously. "It's very pretty."

"I think it would be nice," he shrugged. "What about you?"

It was Hermione's turn to shrug. "I've always liked Eliza. Or maybe Lynn."

"Those are nice," he commented, leaning his head on her tummy, hoping for the baby to kick. "What do you think, baby girl? Do you like those names?"

"Do you really think she can hear you?"

"Ha! You do think it's a girl!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter either way Ron…"

"As long as it's healthy, yeah I know." He tugged her shirt up to expose her stomach, kissing her belly button. "I love you, baby. Don't listen to your mother either. I know you're a girl. And you'll be beautiful, just like she is."

Hermione didn't bother to hide her tears, for she was a fountain lately. "And she or he will brave just like his or her father."

It was Ron's turn to roll his eyes. "Whatever, love. It's a girl, she doesn't need to be brave. That's what I'm here for, to protect her."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," she answered simply. She tugged at his hair to get his attention, and when he leaned up, she kissed him.

-

Only a few weeks later in the same hospital, a little girl was born to the Weasley family; named Rose.

-

**AN:** I love Daddy!Ron. Don't you?


End file.
